I Always Belonged to You
by QuinnBekah
Summary: The New Directions  or what's left of them  are caught in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. The goal? SURVIVE. And while you're at it, be sure the one's you love don't slip away before you can tell them you love them.
1. Chapter 1: FAILURE

Title: I Always Belonged to You

Pairing: Faberry

Sub Pairings: Kum, Brittana, Tike

POV: Third Person

Rated: M (for violence)

Warnings: Violence, Course Language

Summary: The New Directions (or what's left of them) are caught in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. The goal? SURVIVE. And while you're at it, be sure the one's you love don't slip away before you can tell them you love them.

A/N: Whoa. This is one of the first multi-chapter fics I wrote I actually like! And there's actually no smut in this so if that's what you're looking for, sorry, maybe I'll write more later. It's actually a pretty good story though, so if you like Glee, Faberry, and Zombies… READ!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these lovely characters

CHAPTER 1: FAILURE

For lack of a better word, (because if there was one Rachel would definitely be using it) Quinn Fabray was gorgeous.

She had always been so, with her soft blonde hair, bright hazel eyes, and lips that looked so soft Rachel would often fantasize about kissing them. Now, however, her hair was a bright pink colour. Her bright eyes conveyed no emotion. Her face was a mask of the hardships she, and the rest of the world, were currently facing.

But Rachel still found her gorgeous. In tight black clothes, tattoos adorning her skin, peircings, guns strapped to her back and blood splattering her clothes from the head of the zombie that Quinn had just taken off with a baseball bat, she was still gorgeous. The contrast of the dark red blood against Quinn's snow white skin was beautiful.

Rachel paused in her assessment of her teammate to pull her gun up to her shoulder and blow the head off of a zombie that was fast approaching a very distracted Kurt Hummel.

"Head in the game, Hummel!" she shouted at him.

"Kind of bust here, Rachel!" he shouted back, pulling his axe from the back of a now completely dead zombie that had been attacking his boyfriend, Blaine.

"Shut up, both of you!" Quinn hissed, "You'll attract more of them."

All the zombies in the house were now lying dead at their feet, and they paused to listen for more.

"Good," Quinn whispered, "Come on."

They slung their guns and bags of supplies over their shoulders and hurried down to the truck where Santana was waiting, taking a very bloodied up Blaine Anderson with them.

They loaded all the supplies from the Anderson home that they could carry into the truck, and took off back to their shelter: Quinn's house.

"How is he?" Santana asked when they piled into the truck.

"He's in shock." Kurt said, holding his boyfriend close to him, despite the blood he was coughing up all over Kurt's McQueen jacket.

Kurt insisted that even in the midst of the apocalypse he had a need for fashion; the designer fabrics were tough, and it would be hard for a zombie to get it's teeth into Kurt's skin if it had to rip through his jacket first.

"Gross! What's wrong with him?" Santana exclaimed.

"He was bitten." Quinn said blankly.

"What?" Kurt asked, eyes widening as tears spilled from them.

Quinn nodded, "I'm sorry, Kurt."

"Blaine? Blaine! Blaine, listen to me!" Kurt was hysterical, shaking his dying boyfriend in his lap.

Blaine looked up at Kurt with blood shot eyes, "Ku-u-rt," he coughed through a mouthful of blood, "I'm… sorry."

Kurt sobbed, "Don't leave me, Blaine! Please!"

"I love you." Blaine burbled, spewing blood out onto Kurt's lap and Santana's seats.

Kurt let out a loud anguished cry as Blaine's eyes went blank at his last cough of blood and guts and he fell sideways entirely onto Kurt's bloodied lap.

"How long do we have until he wakes up?" Rachel whispered through her tears.

"We won't make it home." Quinn said, "Just pull over here, San, and I'll take care of him."

Santana pulled the truck over on the road back to Lima, and Quinn got out. She opened the back door and heaved Blaine's body off Kurt's lap and onto the ground.

"Can I borrow this?" Quinn indicated Kurt's axe, "I want to end this before he wakes up."

Kurt nodded and looked away as Quinn raised the axe and lopped off Blaine's head from his bloody, distorted body. Within the anguish he was feeling at the loss of his boyfriend, Kurt felt grateful to Quinn for ending it so that his last memory of his boyfriend was not of an undead monster fighting to rip off his flesh.

Quinn made to get back in the truck, but hesitated. After a moment of thought, the girl went back to the boy's body and picked up his tie, flinging it at Kurt without a word as she got back into the truck.

"Let's go home before more of them smell the blood." Quinn said.

Santana put the truck into drive, and the rest of the ride home was silent, aside from Kurt's quiet sobs and hiccups. A weight fell over the four people in the truck.

Their mission had been to save Blaine Anderson. They had failed.


	2. Chapter 2: SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

CHAPTER 2: SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

Rachel couldn't sleep alone. She refused to. Every time she closed her eyes flashes of bloodied and rotting bodies clambering to get at her filled her head. She wouldn't have been so scared of the nightmares if they weren't still there when she opened her eyes.

She had always shared a room with Kurt, her best friend, but for the past few days since their failed mission, Kurt had been locking himself in his room and falling asleep sobbing, Blaine's tie in his arms.

Rachel hadn't slept in three days. She kept offering to be on the night patrol, just so she wouldn't have to sleep. She went around the house and made sure all the doors were dead-bolted and barred, the windows boarded up. Then she sat in the entryway at the bottom of the stairs with a book in her lap and her hand on her gun.

"Berry." Quinn sat down beside her and handed her a glass of cold soy milk. Rachel smiled at the gesture and sipped from it, looking up at the pink haired girl.

Quinn pulled out a cigarette, "You mind?"

Rachel shook her head, but said weakly, "You know if the zombies don't kill you, that's going to."

Quinn let out a short, dry laugh, "I'll keep that in mind."

Rachel didn't really mind Quinn indulging in her smokes these days. It kept her calm and relaxed her. Rachel would do anything to keep her teammates from having the same dreams she did every night.

Rachel looked over to see the other girl staring at her, studying her.

"What is it?" Rachel asked her, feeling ridiculously self-conscious.

Quinn's hand came up and she swiped her thumb gently over the skin under Rachel's eye.

"You look like Hell, Rach. I've never seen bags so big. You should sleep." Quinn said.

"Is that why you're here? To relieve me?" Rachel asked her, "Because I'm fine."

"Why don't you ever sleep, Rach?" Quinn asked her, taking another long drag from her almost forgotten smoke.

"I can't." Rachel said truthfully, "This hell doesn't end when I close my eyes."

Quinn nodded, "I know what you mean."

They paused as a loud sob echoed its way down the hall.

"I thought he'd fallen asleep." Rachel frowned.

"He cries in his sleep too." Quinn muttered.

Tina came around the corner, hot chocolate in hand and Mike in tow.

"You two go get some sleep, we'l take over." Mike said, "Tina can't sleep."

"I can't stop thinking about Kurt." She whispers over her mug, "Is he going to be okay?"

"Are any of us?" Quinn shot back.

Silence fell over the four of them as the weight of Quinn's words sunk in.

Rachel stood up. "I'll be in the living room." She said quietly, rushing off.

"Rach!" Quinn followed the girl into the room, "Why don't you sleep in my room tonight?"

"Really?" Rachel asked.

Quinn nodded, "Come on."

Rachel followed Quinn to her room with morbid curiosity. Despite having lived in Quinn's house for about a month, none of the surviving ND had ever been inside her room. A 'BEWARE' sign adorned her door, and it was always locked.

When Quinn let Rachel in, her eyes scanned the walls. It was a perfectly ordinary bedroom, aside from the weapons hanging on the walls. One wall was blank of weapons, but there were words scratched into the pink paint.

Mercedes Jones.

Artie Abrams.

Finn Hudson.

Will Schuster.

David Karofsky.

Jacob Ben-Isreal.

And what looked much newer:

Blaine Anderson.

"You made a list of every zombie you've killed?" asked Rachel in horror.

"All the ones who's names I know." Quinn nodded.

"That's…" Rachel paused, searching for an adjective, "really sad."

Quinn shrugged, lifting the covers on her bed, "Climb in, Berry."

Rachel climbed awkwardly into the bed, and curled up next to Quinn.

"Goodnight Quinn."

"Night, Rach."

For the first time that month, Rachel fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.


	3. Chapter 3: NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE

CHAPTER 3: NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE

_Rachel walked through the dark corridors of McKinley High, hand on her gun and Finn at her back. It was a search mission, to find out if there were any survivors hiding inside the abandoned school. It had been exactly seventeen days since the outbreak of the zombie virus._

"_How are we supposed to know if anyone is hiding in here? We won't find them if they don't want to be found. It's not like we can call out to them." Finn whispered._

"_We just look in every room and see if we find someone." Rachel answered._

_Their search of the school turned up zero results, however, and after checking every classroom they were more than a little suspicious as why there were no zombies in the building._

"_Where HAVEN'T we checked, Finn?" Rachel asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth._

"_The cafeteria?" Finn suggested._

"_Genius! If I were a survivor in this school that's exactly where I'd go! There's probably days' worth of food back there!" Rachel exclaimed, happy that Finn had provided a satisfactory answer as they set off for the cafeteria._

"_Rachel?" Finn asked before they went in. _

"_Yes, Finn?"_

"_if there is lots of food back there… wouldn't the zombies smell it, too?" Finn pointed out._

"_That's a good point, Finn." Rachel whispered as she brought her gun to her shoulder and kicked the door open in front of her._

_There were no survivors. They were fools to think there would be. Instead there was a horde of something like seventy zombies who all rushed the door as soon as it opened._

_Finn and Rachel took down the first few rows with their guns, and then Finn slammed the door shut on them, pulled a hockey stick from strapped to his back and stuck it in the door handles._

"_I told you that would come in handy!" Finn yelled as they bolted down the halls._

"_Yes, but it's not going to hold them for long! Run!" Rachel shouted back._

_They rounded a corner just in time to hear the snapping of wood that meant the hockey stick had failed, and the zombies came hurtling after them. They almost made it to the doors in time. Rachel's hand was on the handle when she heard a cry over the mass of snarling and growling behind her. She turned to see Finn being dragged into the horde by his legs by three zombies who had been faster than the rest._

_Tears broke out on Rachel's face, and her vision was blurry as she lifted her gun to blow away the zombies holding onto Finn._

_Back in the getaway truck, Quinn was wondering what was taking them so long. She'd fucking kill that oaf Hudson if he'd let ANYTHING happen to little Berry. Why had she let Rachel go on this mission in the first place? Especially with only Finn for backup. She should have gone in with them. _

_A scream broke Quinn from her thoughts and she wasted no time in grabbing her guns, and her favorite bat before bolting to the doors._

_When Quinn got there, it was too late for Finn. He was lost somewhere in the horde, having his flesh torn off by ravenous zombies._

_Rachel was at the door, fighting off the approaching zombies with her gun, but not by shooting them, by smashing them over the head with it. It was a wonder she could tell where any of them were because she was in complete hysterics._

_Quinn lifted her guns and blew away all of the zombies in Rachel's general area. Then she turned and started shooting into the horde. Rachel gained her composure and took up her gun and began shooting again. Together, they managed to thin the numbers down to about twenty or so before they ran out of bullets._

_Quinn dropped her guns and grabbed her bat, a large grin on her face as she threw herself into the horde. Rachel didn't have to help. She knew this was Quinn's playtime now. She sat back, drying her tears and watching with awe as Quinn had fun smashing zombie after zombie's head in._

_Soon enough the zombies were all silenced, and Rachel was offered one of Quinn's bloodied hands. She took it, and got up to survey the damage to Finn's body. Except for what remained of his face, Finn's body was managed beyond recognition. It brought a fresh wave of tears to Rachel's eyes, and she turned away, burying her face into Quinn's shoulder._

_Quinn didn't say anything. She couldn't have if she tried. For a moment, both of them just stood ther and mourned the loss of their once boyfriend._

_There was a low, guttural groan resonating form the boy's body and Rachel looked up in shock. He stirred, and for a moment Rachel thought the poor boy might have somehow survived._

"_Finn?" she gasped, stumbling forward before Quinn caught her wrist. She looked back at the pink haired girl, who shook her head._

_Rachel's eyes widened as Finn sat up. All of the life in his one eye was gone. No sign of pain, or suffering. Just hunger. It was the first time Rachel had ever witnessed a zombie reanimate._

_She screamed, and Finn reacted to the noise, lunging forward and latching his nails onto Rachel's leg. With a shout, Quinn brought her baseball bat down hard on what remained of the zombie's head, blood splashing everywhere at the impact._

_Rachel stared in shock at the undead dead boy as Quinn peeled his dead, clinging hands off Rachel's leg. Rachel's white shirt and jean skirt were stained so badly with Finn's blood that it was unrecognizable what colour they really were._

_Crying silently, and still in shock, Rachel allowed Quinn to guide her out to the truck, and neither of them said a word the whole way home._


	4. Chapter 4: PLEASE DON'T CRY

A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to say how happy I am that you guys are reading my story and like it so far! I don't usually post a lot of my stuff, but I really liked this one so I wanted to share it. I hand wrote all of it before I started typing, so I'm trying to update weekly, but here's an early chapter for you because I got it done.

To **ShadowCub: **They're looking for survivors so that they can help save other people and maybe get saved themselves, I really think that's just sort of common courtesy during an apocalypse, you wouldn't want the entire human race to die would you? The more the merrier I say :D

CHAPTER 4: PLEASE DON'T CRY

Sam was one of the only surviving boys of the ND. There were only four of them left. Sam thought it was the boy's duty to help keep the group together. With the exception of Kurt, who'd been in a broken state since Blaine's death, the boys had to be an unbreakable force to protect the girls from this war. It was a big responsibility that Sam had placed on his own, Puck, and Mike's shoulders.

It was night. Puck and Sam were outside of Quinn's house, walking around the perimeter. They did this twice a night to stop zombies before they even got to the house. They were sure the barriers on the doors and windows would hold, but it was always better to take extra precautions. They were just about to go inside, satisfied with the absence of zombies, when they heard a loud scream.

"What was that?" Puck asked, terrified, as he pulled his gun up to his shoulder, looking around for the source.

"Noah… It came from inside." Sam whispered.

Puck looked at him with his eyes wide as they bolted to the house. Mike and Tina were sitting in the doorway, Tina sobbing quietly.

"Who screamed?" Sam demanded.

"Kurt." Mike said.

"Oh." Puck relaxed, happy there were no zombies he had to kill.

Sam, however, ran down the hall to Kurt's room and let himself in. Kurt was sitting upright in bed, tears pouring down his face, sobs wracking his body. He was shirtless, and so sweaty that his usually perfect hair was plastered to his forehead. He looked up at Sam with terrified eyes, and broke out into a fresh wave of sobs.

Sam closed the door and switched the light on, crossing the bedroom in two strides and gathering the crying boy into his arms.

"Ssh…" he soothed, "I know."

"Sam," Kurt sobbed into the other boy's chest.

"I know, Kurt. I know." Sam said again.

Sam didn't say it was going to be okay. He didn't want to make a promise he had no way of keeping. And Kurt was glad for that, because it wasn't going to be okay.

"Every time I close my eyes, I watch him die over and over again." Kurt whispered after his sobs calmed down.

:I'm sorry that had to happen, Kurt. We all are. I just wish I could help you." Sam whispered, tears falling onto his face.

"Please don't cry, Sam." Kurt shushed him, wiping the tears from his face, "There's no reason for you to cry. If you cry, I'll start crying again."

Sam chuckled darkly, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing." Kurt whispered.

"Sorry." Sam repeated.

Kurt laughed. It was silent again for a while. Sam thought Kurt might've fallen asleep. Sam made to get up, and Kurt's hand came up and grabbed his wrist.

"Please stay?" The look in Kurt's eyes was pleading, he hoped Sam wouldn't leave him.

Sam nodded and peeled off his shirt before crawling in next to Kurt.

"I'm going to avenge Blaine, Kurt." Sam told him, "I'm going to kill every zombie in this town. Every zombie in this world. I won't let Blaine's death go unpunished."

Sam looked down at the boy curled up against his chest. He was asleep.


	5. Chapter 5: JUST TRYING TO STAY ALIVE

A/N: to ShadowCub- And I agree with the point your making as well, it is sort of irresponsible for them to be risking their lives but honestly if it was me, I would be trying to help out as many people as I can. And as a huge fan of the show I believe that some (emphasis on some :P) of the glee club members are kind hearted enough to try and help out their community in such a disaster. I think it would help someone to keep their mind if they had something to focus on instead of getting lost in the mass pandemonium as well.

Anyway, that's just my view Enjoy!

CHAPTER 5: JUST TRYING TO STAY ALIVE

The other eight surviving ND didn't understand Quinn's need to keep track of the days of the week. Quinn felt that knowing which day it was helped keep some sense of normalcy in her life. Every day, Brittany and Rachel made breakfast and the ND met in the kitchen to eat it. Every day, Quinn would stride in after everyone else and announce the date to the room.

"It's Thursday, September the seventh." Quinn said, strolling in and sitting down as Rachel dished out her vegan pancakes. That was the downside of having Rachel as their cook: no meat.

"What are we doing today?" Puck would ask.

Everyone liked to keep busy. It made them feel like they had a chance.

"We're running low on food." Rachel pointed out.

"Yeah, well it wouldn't be so hard to find something to eat if you wouldn't insist on everything in this house being vegan, Berry." Santana scoffed.

"I'm sorry, Santana," Rachel spat back, "I refuse to eat anything that once had a face!"

This sent the Glee club into silence as they pondered the unintended double meaning behind Rachel's carefully chosen words.

"I agree with Rachel." Tina said quietly, "When she puts it that way, it kind of makes me feel as bad as the zombies."

"Okay, we'll keep the food vegan, can we please get to what we're doing today?" Quinn asked impatiently.

"Tina and I are still working on fixing those broken guns in the basement." Mike said.

"Alright, you two keep working on that, I'll go search for food." Quinn said.

"I'll go with you!" Rachel offered.

"No! We need you here, Rachel. It's… it's your turn to clean the house. Puck can come with me." Quinn told her.

Rachel looked like she was about to argue, but it was her turn to clean up, and she knew Quinn had her own reasons for not wanting Rachel to join her. She shut her mouth and nodded.

"Britt, keep Kurt company today. And Sam and I will continue our search for survivors." Santana offered.

"We've almost searched the whole town. Everywhere but Lima Heights Adjacent. Santana wanted to save it for last." Sam said quietly.

Santana was quiet, not acknowledging that Sam had mentioned her past home at all.

"Come on, Trouty. Let's go." She said, standing up and going to the garage to load up on weapons and hop into the truck.

The rest of the group dispersed from the kitchen to go off and do their assignments, Brittany taking a plate to Kurt's room.

"Let's go, Puck." Quinn nodded at the boy.

"What are we taking?" he asked.

"We'll take my car. It's the quietest." She said, tossing him the keys, "I'll meet you down there, I've got to grab my bat."

Puck went down to the garage and Quinn extracted her favourite bat from her room, making her way back through the house.

"Quinn."

Quinn turned to look at the small brunette girl standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Be careful." She whispered.

Quinn smiled softly at her, "Always am, Rach."

"Where to, Fabray?" Puck asked as they drove silently through the abandoned streets of Lima.

"Let's just go to the Supermarket. I'm in no mood to search people's houses today." Quinn sighed.

"Thought you said the Supermarket was dangerous?" Puck muttered, changing his course.

"Scared, Puckerman?" Quinn asked.

"No!" Puck protested, "I'm just saying. Is it worth the trouble to keep Rachel happy if we're going to run into fifty or more of those monsters?"

"It's worth it." Quinn nodded.

"Why?" Puck asked.

"I- We need her. There's not many of us left. Rachel cooperates better when she's getting her way, and there's more important matters at hand than what we're eating, anyway." She explained.

"Sometimes I feel like you try harder to give Rachel extra attention. Keep her safe." Puck said quietly, looking at the girl out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm trying to protect all of you. Rachel is the most vulnerable, I guess." Quinn dismissed.

Puck knew something else was going on but he didn't push it. Quinn would tell him when she was ready.

Puck pulled up into the parkinglot of the Supermarket and they got out of the car, each grabbing an abundance of weapons, ammo, and bags to fill with food.

Quinn hesitated on their way into the store.

"What is it?" Puck asked her.

"This is where I killed Mr. Schue." Quinn whispered.

"You didn't kill Mr. Schue." Puck told her, "the zombies did. That wasn't him who attacked you, it was a monster. You did what you had to do to survive."

Quinn nodded but didn't look reassured. She was a murderer. She knew it.

"Let's just go." She said, heading into the store.

What the two of them didn't expect when they entered the store was for the doorbell to still work. A loud ringing reverberated throughout the empty aisles as they opened the door. Monsters rushed around every corner, attracted to the sound.

The horde wasn't as loud as Quinn expected. Only about twenty or so. So Quinn went straight for her bat, figuring that using her guns would damage the goods on the shelves. Clearly Noah didn't have the same concern.

Quinn didn't understand how zombies moved. Their bodies felt so frail as they broke under the weight of her bat. She broke into their flesh easily, and their bones shattered from the pressure of her swing. She cut one right in half on one blow, then smashed it's head in for effect.

Quinn was disgusted by the way killing made her feel, even if the ones she was killing were already dead. But she loved it. She loved hearing their bones crack, and feeling the blood hit her face. The smell sickened her, but that was the same for everyone.

Quinn took a deep breath and spun to take down the next zombie approaching only to find they were all already dead. Puck was staring at her, mouth agape and gun hanging uselessly at his side.

"Holy shit, Obiwan Kenobi." was the first thing he said.

"Fuck off, Puckerman." Quinn said, but she was smiling, "Let's get some food and get out."

Quinn chose this store because it was the one Rachel shopped at… before the world ended. Quinn knew exactly where to find all of Rachel's favourite vegan foods that everyone liked.

They went around the store filling empty bags with food and left quickly.

"No, seriously, Q, you were badass!" Puck said once they were back in the car.

"No I wasn't." Quinn argued, keeping her eyes on the road as she drove them back home to unload.

"Yeah you were. Where did you learn to do that shit?" Puck asked eagerly, wanting to learn some of Quinn's kickass, Jedi like moves.

"I'm just trying to stay alive, Puck. I didn't learn it. I just do it." Quinn answered.

Puck fell silent, studying her. She had changed so much from that blonde head cheerleader he'd loved so much two years ago. She was a stranger now. Tougher. And also… more afraid. Puck guessed they all were.


	6. Chapter 6: IS ANYONE HOME?

CHAPTER 6: IS ANYONE HOME?

Sam had never been to Lima Heights Adjacent. Honestly, he didn't really believe Santana lived there. Her dad was a doctor! One of them had to be a lie.

"Santana… if your dad's a doctor why do you live here?" he asked.

"WAS a doctor, Trouty, he's most likely dead or out chewing on people now." Santana corrected bluntly.

"Right… well?" Sam persisted.

"My dad was a doctor," Santana explained quietly, "but he left when I was three."

"Oh." Sam breathed.

"He sent money and presents and shit, but he didn't love us. We lived in a big expensive house, or so Mami said, and when Papi left, she lost it. We had to move out here with my Abuela." She went on, "Whatever though. I love it out here. Taught me to be tough."

"Santana…" he started.

"You don't have to say anything. Don't. Let's just… go see if my family is alive or not." She slung her gun over her shoulder and got out of the truck.

Lima Heights Adjacent looked like the building from the Karate Kid. It was an old run down apartment with three floors. It was a red-brown colour, but Sam wasn't sure if it was supposed to be.

"Got your gun, Evans?" Santana asked.

Sam nodded.

"Good, lots of people lived here, so this is probably going to be one huge ass horde of zombie fuckers." She warned him.

Santana opened the door. It creaked loudly as it swung open. The pair of them crept silently through the abandoned building. And that's exactly what it was. There wasn't a zombie in sight.

Santana led Sam down the hallways and together they checked every room.

"They're all empty!" Sam exclaimed when they were on the third floor.

"This doesn't make any sense!" Santana said, frustrated.

"Which room is yours?" Sam asked her.

"310." She whispered.

They ran down the hall to Santana's room and kicked down the door.

Abandoning all reason, Santana cried out, "HELLO? MAMI?"

"Santana, don't!" Sam hissed.

A woman ran around the corner, her eyes wild and her hair all over the place. At first look, Sam thought she was a zombie. But her skin was alive, not rotting. She wasn't mangled. Scratched up a bit, but not mangled. She was holding a large kitchen knife.

Before her knife hit Santana's shoulder, the woman stopped.

"Santana?" she asked.

"Mami!" Santana exclaimed, dropping her gun and wrapping her arms around her mother.

After a minute of shock, Mrs. Lopez reacted, hugging back and sobbing.

"Santana!" the woman exclaimed, over and over.

"Yes, Mami, I'm here. I'm alive. Look." Santana turned into a different person when she was with her mother. Like she was softer, more compassionate. Like when she was with Brittany.

"How is this?" Mrs. Lopez asked, "How are you alive?"

Santana explained how there were nine of them left, living safely at Quinn's house. She explained how she and Sam had searched all of Lima for survivors, and how she was so happy to see her and she had to come back with them right away.

Sam and Santana helped Mrs. Lopez pack her stuff and made to leave.

"Wait!" she stopped them and started walking around her apartment, meowing.

"Is she okay?" Sam whispered.

"Mami? What are you doing? We've got to go!" Santana exclaimed.

"Look who I found." Mrs. Lopez said, picking up the fattest gray cat Sam had ever seen.

"TUBBS!" Santana smiled, "Oh, Britt will be so happy! Thank you, Mami!"

Mrs. Lopez smiled softly at her daughter, "Ok, sweetie, let's go."

Santana led her back to the truck, but before they could reach the door, they were attacked by five zombies who had just entered the building.

Santana lifted her gun but her mother stopped her, "I've got this one, love."

Her mom shouted and ran into the group of zombies, wildly wielding her kitchen knife.

"Is she crazy? That's no weapon for zombie killing!" Santana yelled.

But less than five minutes later the zombies were lying beheaded on the ground, and Santana's mom was proudly holding her kitchen knife.

"Wow… Mom." Santana breathed.

Mrs. Lopez winked, "Where'd you think you got your fighting skills from, honey, your prim and proper father?"

Santana laughed, "Come on, Mami. I want to show you home."


	7. Chapter 7: WHAT DO I HAVE?

CHAPTER 7: WHAT DO I HAVE?

"LORD TUBBINGTON!" Brittany exclaimed when Santana showed her the overweight cat. Santana smiled at her girlfriend when she immediately started pampering the beast.

"Who'd you find?" Puck came into the room eagerly.

"My Mami!" Santana said happily.

"Oh." Puck looked a little put out, "That's great, Santana."

Everyone knew who Puck wanted to find. Shelby Corcoran. Not out of any personal attachment to the former Vocal Adrenaline instructor, but on the hope that, if Shelby was alive, Beth would be too.

"We searched the whole town, Puck." Sam said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Noah said nothing.

"There's still a chance she left town. " Santana offered.

"Yeah… that's probably what she did." He mumbled.

Quinn hated these conversations. She wanted her daughter to be alive just as much as Puck did. She just wasn't about to hold on to any false sense of hope. She couldn't bring herself to write Beth off as dead, but she couldn't hope to believe she was alive either.

"You know, she probably went to the city." Rachel offered, despite the fact that she usually refused to talk about her birth mother.

Puck only nodded.

"Noah…" Quinn said quietly.

Their eyes met for a moment. His eyes were filled with despair. 'Where is our daughter, Quinn?' they seemed to say. Hers were filled with detachment. 'Let it go.' They told him. But he couldn't. Beth was his everything.

"Dinner's ready." Tina announced quietly from the door after the silence settled.

The ND, Mrs. Lopez, and Lord Tubbington, wrapped safely in Brittany's arms, made their way to the kitchen to eat.

Dinner was a meatless, cheeseless pasta. And this was a good meal. They hadn't eaten this well in weeks.

Santana scarfed down her food quickly, "This is SO GOOD Tina! You should cook more often!" she exclaimed through a mouthful of pasta.

"Thanks!" Tina smiled at her.

"Noah. You need to eat." Rachel scolded Puck for not touching his plate.

"I'm not hungry."

"But-"

"I said I'm not hungry, Berry!" he snapped.

"Don't yell at her!" Quinn shouted.

"Oh right, I'm sorry." Puck said sarcastically, "I forgot Rachel was the ONLY one here you actually care about!" He stood up, pushing his chair over.

Quinn stood as well, "That's not true and you know it, Puckerman! I've saved your ass so many times it should fucking belong to me!"

Kurt cried loudly form his room.

"Stop it. You're scaring him." Sam said firmly, getting up to go see if the other boy was alright.

"Don't you care?" Puck asked quietly, "Our daughter is out there somewhere. She might even be dead. Don't you want to know whether she's alive? Don't you CARE?"

"Of course I care, Noah! She's mine too! I would be so fucking… RELIEVED if she was alive, but I'm not going to delude myself into thinking she is!" Quinn hissed at him.

Puck shook his head at her and left the room.

"Where is he going?" Rachel whispered through her tears.

"Don't cry, Rachel." Quinn breathed.

"He's in the garage! Quinn, he's going to leave! Where is he going?" Rachel was hyperventilating now, her sobs giving Tina a run for her money.

"Ssh… calm down, Rach. I'll go find out." Quinn sighed, leaving for the garage.

Puck was already in the truck. Quinn jumped into the passenger seat right as he was about to take off.

"Where are we going, Noah?" Quinn asked, defeated.

"Shelby's." he told her.

"Puck… she's not there. Santana and Sam looked all over town, there are no survivors. Maybe Rachel's right, maybe they left town, but they're not in Lima." Quinn protested.

"I just want to double check." He said.

Quinn didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. He was hopeless. Didn't he think she wanted Beth to be alive? Did he think she was heartless? Of course she loved Beth, but what good did it do to dwell on the past in a world like this?

They pulled up in Shelby's driveway and sat in the truck for a minute, surveying their surroundings for zombies. When the area was clear, Puck hopped out of the truck and headed for the door. Quinn noticed he was unarmed, so she grabbed her bat and two guns.

"Noah!" she hissed, following him inside.

The house really was empty. There were no zombies, and definitely no survivors. Puck went from room to room, ransacking the house; overturning furniture, pulling things from cupboards, breaking things in every room. Quinn was worried that all the noise would attract zombies from outside.

"What do you expect to find, Noah?" Quinn asked, exasperated.

"I don't know, but I have to find something!" he shouted.

There was a loud growling noise and thumping coming from the basement. Quinn saw forty or more zombies making their way up the stairs toward them. In the lead was the gruesome, undead form of Shelby Corcoran.

Quinn slammed the door on the horde, wanting to run rather than fight. She locked the door, and shoved the couch in front of it, but it wouldn't hold the monsters long.

Puck was crying. He had fallen to his knees and he was crying. Quinn was trying so hard not to follow his example.

"She's gone." Puck gasped, "She's gone."

"No, we don't know that. Someone could've taken her, saved her." Quinn reassured the boy.

"No." Puck said, "No."

"Please, Puck, we have to go!" Quinn sobbed, tugging at his arm, but he wouldn't budge.

"You go!" he yelled, "I have NOTHING to live for anymore!"

"That's not true! You have us! We're a family, Noah, you HAVE to get up!" Quinn panicked, the door starting to break under the pressure of the many zombies.

"It IS true!" he yelled, "Mike has Tina! Santana has Brittany, and her mom, and that stupid cat! Sam has Kurt! And you can deny it all you want but you're living to protect Rachel! WHAT DO I HAVE? NOTHING!"

"Puck, please, you have me! You have Rachel! You have Sam, and Santana, and Brittany, Kurt, Tina, and Mike! Please, Puck, let's go!" Quinn cried as the zombies broke through the door.

"Go, Quinn. You have to protect Rachel. Don't let anything happen to her, ever." Puck pushed her off.

Quinn watched him as she ran out of the room, shooting at the few zombies that chose to follow her.

"Goodbye, Quinn." Noah rasped as the zombies surrounded him.

Quinn ran until she couldn't see him anymore, she jumped in the truck and took off, speeding home. Once she was behind the wheel, she allowed herself to cry.

"Goodbye, Noah." She cried, "Goodbye, Beth. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."


	8. Chapter 8: I'M HERE

A/N: Whoa! You guys had some pretty strong responses to the last chapter! It was actually one of my favorite chapters to write! I cried like a baby while writing it. I hope you guys like the fic so far. So here's chapter 8 a little early because I like getting reviews. :P Hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER 8: I'M HERE

Quinn didn't tell anyone what happened. She didn't have to. When she turned up alone, locked herself in her room and cried, everyone knew. Puck was gone.

Rachel wanted to go to her. To comfort her, and calm her down. But she didn't. She wouldn't know what to say.

Santana came up behind her and draped a blanket around her shoulders, offering her a hot chocolate.

"Thank you," Rachel said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Santana only nodded.

"I think he wanted to go." Santana said finally.

Rachel looked at her.

"He was lonely. He hated living like this. He hated being afraid. Having nothing to live for. I think he was planning on dying when he left tonight." She explained.

Rachel nodded, agreeing, "I just wish we could've helped him. I wish Quinn would have-"

"Don't you think she tried? She probably stayed right up until his death! She probably fought for him until it was too late. He probably forced her out." Santana interrupted her, "Quinn is the bravest one here, Rachel. She's the bravest, and she's the strongest. But she's still just as scared as the rest of us."

Rachel was quiet for a long time before responding, "Santana?"

"Yeah, Berry?"

"Does it make me a bad person… to be… relieved that it was Noah who died, rather than Quinn?" Rachel whispered, convinced and terrified of her selfishness.

Santana smiled softly at her for the first time that Rachel could remember, "No, Rachel. It just means you love her."

Rachel nodded to herself as Santana left the room.

"Yeah," she whispered to herself, "Yeah, I do."

"Quinn?" Rachel knocked on the pink haired girl's door for the fifth time, "Quinn, it's Rachel, will you please let me in?"

Again there was no answer.

"Quinn you're being ridiculous." Rachel huffed, raising her hand to knock again, "Fine. I guess I just won't sleep at all tonight."

The door opened, "Now who's being ridiculous?" Quinn muttered, "Can't you find anyone else to sleep with?"

"No," Rachel said as she strode into the room and sat herself down on the bed, "Kurt never kept the nightmares away like you do… I doubt anyone else will either."

Quinn stood; baffled for a moment about how she was the only one capable of keeping Rachel's nightmares away.

Rachel took in the girl's room. She was taken aback by the new name added to Quinn's wall.

_Noah Puckerman._

"You didn't…?" It was a question, Quinn hadn't told anyone about what had happened last night yet.

"No… for all I know, he's a zombie right now. I wish I would've had the courage to stay and finish him off. Death is a much better fate than his existence right now." Quinn said, not looking at the shorter girl.

"But, he might not be undead. They might have… consumed… all of him, right?" Rachel asked.

Quinn nodded, "That's more than likely. There were a lot of them in that basement… they were probably hungry."

"I'm just glad he's not a monster." Rachel whispered, "So why is he on your wall? You didn't kill him."

"But I FEEL like I did Rachel! I could've saved him! If I would've just stopped being so afraid for one fucking second and dragged him off his ass! If I could have just told him to be a fucking man and fight! But I didn't, Rach." She was crying freely now, tears flowing down her face, "I didn't, and now he's gone."

Quinn didn't break down. Ever. She was mortified that she was crying like this. She was mortified that someone could see her. She was even more mortified that that someone was Rachel.

Rachel didn't know what to do. She wanted to console Quinn, but she didn't know how. Quinn felt like a murderer, and Rachel had never felt that way.

"Quinn… I-"she started.

"No," Quinn sniffed, "Don't say anything."

Rachel closed her mouth, frowning. After a few moments of being silent, aside form the soft sobs leaving Quinn's mouth, Rachel got up to leave.

"I'll just go." She said quietly.

"No. Rachel. Just… stay here… just be here." Quinn cried.

Rachel sat back down next to the crying girl, and held her.

"I'm here, Quinn. I'll always be here."

"Who died?" Kurt asked Sam with wide eyes as he came into his room crying.

"Puckerman."

Kurt gasped, "… what?"

Sam nodded, "He gave up."

Tears leaked from Kurt's eyes, despite his struggle to keep them at bay. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve so Sam wouldn't see.

"It's okay to cry, Kurt." Sam said.

"No it's not. I'm crying for all the wrong reasons." Kurt whispered as Sam sat next to him and gathered him in his arms.

"Why are you crying?" Sam asked him, confused.

Kurt turned to him, looking him in the eye, "I'm just as upset as everyone else is that Noah is gone, but… at the same time I'm just so… so… happy that it's not you."

Sam was quiet.

"I'm crying because I can't imagine what I would do without you. Please don't ever give up on me, Sam. Don't ever give up like Noah did." Kurt sobbed.

Sam didn't know what to say. It had taken so long for Kurt to get over Blaine, maybe he still hadn't. Sam felt so blessed that he was the one Kurt now needed. And all at once he realised how much HE needed Kurt, and how he NEVER wanted to disappoint him.

"I will never leave you, Kurt." Sam answered finally, pressing his lips softly to Kurt's cheek, "I promise."

Kurt smiled at him, "Good. I'm holding you to that you know."

"I know." Sam said.

Kurt missed Blaine terribly, but he knew he was never coming back. And he knew Blaine wouldn't want him to mourn him forever. Blaine would want him to move on, and be happy. Because in a world like this, happiness was very hard to come by. And no one knew when their life could be over. They were losing people, and they had to hold on to the ones they loved for as long as they had.

Sam could die tomorrow. Kurt could die next week. They could die tonight. As long as they had each other, it didn't matter.

"I'll always be there for you Sam, you know that right?" Kurt whispered.

Sam was already asleep.

Kurt smiled at the sleeping blonde boy, "I love you," he said, "you know THAT right?"

Kurt couldn't tell if it was just his imagination, but it looked like Sam nodded in his sleep.


	9. Chapter 9: I NEED YOU

A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to say that I love getting your reviews and am really happy you're enjoying the story! As for suggestions for later chapters: I've already written the entire story long before I started posting it. Sorry! I'll definitely take your suggestions into consideration if I ever do another fic similar to this one though! Thanks! Enjoy!

CHAPTER 9: I NEED YOU

"Saturday, September ninth." Quinn announced, strolling into the kitchen for a breakfast consisting of hash browns, toast, and strawberries. She sat down at the table and didn't look at anyone. She kept waiting for Puck's daily inquiry, 'What are we doing today?' but it never came.

"What-" Rachel stopped herself, "What's left to be done?" she asked instead.

Relieved, Quinn went to answer her, but was interrupted by a "Good Morning" they hadn't heard in a long time.

"Kurt!" Rachel exclaimed, "How are you? Would you like some toast?"

"I'm… Well, yes, Rachel, I would like some toast, thank you." Kurt said, sitting down at the table.

"It's good to have you back, Kurt." Santana said quietly.

"It's good to be back, Santana." He replied, smiling at her.

"So… what's on the agenda today?" Sam asked, tearing his eyes away from the smaller boy who was busy digging into his toast.

"Mike and I tapped into an airline radio yesterday," Tina announced, "Judging by it's course, it's due to fly over a farm field just outside of Lima today."

"We want to see if we can flag it down." Mike added, "See if we can be rescued."

"It's not a jet or anything. It would have to take us away in trips of four, but the pilot seems to think that wherever they're headed is a safe haven. A community with survivors, and food, and no zombies." Tina explained.

"Would you two be able to find that plane on your own, or do you need back up?" Quinn asked.

"It's a pretty desolate place; I think we'll be okay." Mike said.

Quinn nodded, it was a good idea, and she'd do anything to get out of here, "Keep your phones on, so we can check up on you every so often. Silent though!" she added.

Mike nodded, and he and Tina set off.

"Anyone else?" Quinn asked.

"Britt wants to go looting for cat food, Mami and I decided to go with her." Santana answered.

"Be sure to get a litter box while you're out!" Quinn called after them, not wanting to clean up after the cat.

"I was thinking," Sam started, "about expanding our search fro survivors outside of Lima. We never really looked around the outskirts, and people outside of the town's limits have less of a chance of being rescued."

Quinn was wary on letting him go. Mike and Tina would already be outside the town's limits. Too far for Quinn to save them if something went wrong. Could she live with herself if she was unable to save Sam, too?

"I'll go with you." Quinn said.

"Oh no, you won't." Rachel butted in, "It is YOUR turn to clean today Quinn and I am NOT covering for you again. All I ever do is clean."

"I'll go with him." Kurt said.

"Kurt…" Quinn wanted to protest.

"I haven't seen any action in over a month, Quinn! I'm okay now, and I'm a quick fighter. Yo need me! Let me go!" he begged.

Quinn was about to argue but the look in Kurt's eyes stopped her. He only wanted to protect Sam. It was the same look Quinn got when she was trying to protect Rachel.

"Be careful boys." Quinn whispered.

"Thanks, Q." Sam smiled, grabbing Kurt's hand and dragging him toward the garage.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked, "Why'd you let him go?"

"He needed to." Quinn replied simply.

"How long until we get there?" Kurt asked Sam as they drove through Lima.

"The first farm is a little over an hour outside of town." Sam said.

An awkward silence fell over the vehicle after Kurt nodded in response.

Sam cleared his throat, "Wanna… wanna listen to music?"

It was a long shot. No one listened to music anymore. Not even Rachel. No one sang; no one danced. Not since this all started.

"I don't know, Sam. I really don't want to be reminded of… what we HAD, you know? What if it's a song we did? What if it's a solo I got? What if it's a song HE sang?" he was getting panicky now, and Sam grabbed his hand.

"Okay, forget I even brought it up." He muttered.

Kurt inhaled deeply, eyes trained on Sam's fingers wrapped around his own. A more rational part of him wanted to scold Sam and tell him to keep both hands on the wheel. The less rational part was just happy for the intimate gesture. He looked up at Sam, studying the boy's profile as he drove.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt whispered, running a finger over Sam's frown lines.

Sam exhaled in a huffy breath, "You." he admitted, "I'm always thinking about you."

Kurt smiled, "What about me?"

"I'm worried I upset you for one," Sam answered, "and I'm worried you'll get hurt, and I'm scared…"

"Of the zombies." Kurt finished, nodding, "Of what we might and might not find."

"No." Sam argued, "Of losing you."

Kurt tried not to cry, he really did. But it didn't matter because when Sam said that, he KNEW… he knew Sam loved him.

"I… I love you, Kurt. I don't know what that means for me… maybe I'm gay or whatever, but I don't care. I just… I just CAN'T lose you, okay? That's all I know, and I… I keep hoping you need me too." Sam said, not looking at the boy next to him.

"I… I do, Sam." Kurt choked out, wiping the tears from his face, "I need you. You rebuilt me after… well, after Blaine died. And I owe you everything for that. I… I do love you, Sam. I love you."

Sam smiled, stealing a glance at the smaller boy.

"Hey. Why don't you take a nap until we get there? You look tired." Sam said softly.

"You mean I look weak." Kurt corrected, but he laid his head on Sam's shoulder anyway.


	10. Chapter 10: IS IT GETTING BETTER?

CHAPTER 10: IS IT GETTING BETTER?

_It was night. Quinn had a rule about being outside at night: you didn't do it. So why then was she so far away from home, at this particularly late hour of the night during the early stages of the fucking zombie apocalypse? Artie Fucking Abrams. That's why._

"_Hurry it up Abrams! We should have been home hours ago. The others will be worried." Quinn whispered loudly into the other room._

_Artie claimed his older brother had owned a high tech police radio system that had very wide range, and could possibly help them get rescued. It was so important that they HAD to get it RIGHT THIS SECOND, despite Quinn's arguing._

_Mr. Schue had even told them to go! Quinn liked Mr. S and all, but she felt that, given the circumstances, there ought to be new leader ship around here. It was her house after all._

"_Artie I swear on all that is holy, if you're not out here within the next ten seconds I am breaking the fucking door down!" Quinn threatened._

"_Almost…" Artie huffed._

"_Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five… Four…" Quinn stopped as the boy FINALLY rolled out of the room._

"_Took you long enough." Quinn complained._

"_Sorry, no working legs!" Artie replied._

_Quinn took the handles on his chair to help them move faster._

"_let's go before they wake up!" she said._

_Artie held the radio on his lap as Quinn moved his chair carefully down the stairs._

"_Got it? Don't let me fall. Oh why did my brother have to have a second floor bedroom?" Artie said the whole time._

"_Probably so you didn't jack his stuff." Quinn muttered._

_Then ime froze at the second of a loud BANG that happened when Artie DROPPED the radio._

"_God damn it, Artie!" Quinn hissed, dragging the boy the rest of the way down the stairs and grabbing the radio, tossing it onto his lap. The front door was off it's hinges as a horde of zombies ran in to investigate the noise._

_Quinn pulled her gun up to shoot at them._

"_I dropped my gun upstairs!" Artie panicked. Fuck. Now Quinn had to babysit Artie too? Yeah, the boy was crippled, but he wasn't incapable of logical thought! Quinn turned to shoot at the zombies that were fast approaching the boy in the chair._

_Busy watching Artie's back and not her own, she was oblivious to the monster fast approaching behind her until it buried its claws in her hair._

"_Fuck!" Quinn screamed, turning and bashing the thing's face with the end of her gun._

_Here eyes widened when she turned, because there hadn't been just one zombie at her back. There were ten. Too close to shoot. Too close for her to grab her bat. She bashed at them with her gun, kicked at them with her feet, and pushed them over._

"_Quinn! Quinn! Help!" Artie screamed. Just as many zombies were attacking Artie as he hit them with the radio. But he was weaponless, he was weak. He couldn't move; he couldn't RUN._

_And while Quinn tried to shake the zombies off of her, it was getting too late for Artie._

"_Artie!" Quinn screamed, shooting the last zombie in the face and turning to shoot the monsters off him. But he was already dead._

"_Oh god!" Quinn cried, this was the first time she'd seen a zombie wake._

_Artie's face was mangled, his skin torn off and bleeding. You could see the bone in his cheeks, and his jaw, as the bleeding flesh hung down around his chin. His right eye was bare of lid or skin and it rolled around ceaselessly in his head. It reminded Quinn of Mad-eye Moody from Harry Potter. One of his shoulders was popped out and Quinn didn't see how he would be able to use that arm. But he did. He groaned, and tried to stand. When he couldn't, he became frustrated and threw himself on the ground, using his arms to drag himself toward Quinn._

_It was sick the way Artie's corpse dragged its mangled body toward her by it's fingernails. Quinn retched, wiping her mouth as she sobbed._

"_Artie," she cried, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough."_

_The monster gurgled and spat blood and stomach acid at her in response._

_She brought her gun up to her shoulder, said goodbye one last time, and blew her friend's head off._

"Quinn?"

Quinn turned at the sound of her name, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh, Quinn." Rachel sighed, knowing what was wrong and not knowing how to help.

"Rachel." Quinn gasped, reaching out to her.

"it's okay, Quinn. It's over." Rachel assured her.

"But it's not, Rach." Quinn argued, "I couldn't save him. Just like I couldn't save Finn. Mr. Schue. Mercedes. Blaine. Puck… Who else has to die because I'm so… incompetent?"

Rachel turned the pink haired girl's head to look in her eyes, "Don't talk like that. This isn't your fault. NONE of this is your fault."

"I could have done better." Quinn whispered.

"You tried, Quinn. That's all we could have asked for." The brunette hushed.

Quinn shook her head but said nothing. It was pointless to argue with Rachel.

"I know it looks hopeless," Rachel said, "but it will be okay."

"How do you know?" Quinn asked.

"Because we have each other. All of us. And because of that, I know we can do anything." She said quietly, not meeting Quinn's eyes, opting instead to watch as her fingers played with pink locks.

"Rachel?"

"Yes, Quinn?"

"Will you… will you sing to me?" Quinn asked quietly, not wanting to hear the answer.

Rachel was quiet for a long time, Quinn almost said never mind. Tears were falling down Rachel's cheeks as she tried to decide whether it would be okay to sing. She hadn't sung a note since the first attack. Her voice was paralyzed with fear. She didn't even know if she COULD sing anymore. Regardless, she tried.

"_Is it getting better? Or do you feel the same? Does it make it easier on you now, you've got someone to blame? ..._"

Quinn listened to Rachel's beautiful voice as she sang perfectly the song they had done years before. How did she even remember the words?

"_It's too late, tonight, to drag the past out into the light. One life but we get to share it…_"

Rachel's eyes were closed. Maybe she was remembering the number. Who was there, what clothes they were wearing, the choreography. Maybe she was thinking about Finn. Maybe…

"That's all I remember." Rachel said quietly after stopping short.

"Thank you." Quinn whispered, "That was beautiful."

"I thought it was appropriate." She sniffed, wiping the tears from her face.

I love you was on the tip of Quinn's tongue. Really, she wanted to say it. She knew Rachel wanted to hear it. But something about saying the words out loud made it so final. What if Rachel died tomorrow and Quinn had finally committed herself to her? How would she live? She knew it was selfish, but admiring her from afar was much safer, because she could convince herself she never really loved her in the first place.

Quinn knew she was lying to herself, but she didn't care. She wanted to play it safe.

"Well…" Rachel said when Quinn was silent, "I better go make dinner."

Rachel got up without another word and left Quinn to herself.


	11. Chapter 11: Saved From Ourselves

CHAPTER 11: SAVED FROM OURSELVES

Mike and Tina got out of the car and surveyed the area. It was a big, empty field, a few yards away from a small farmhouse. Mike hauled guns, flags, matches, and other weapons from the trunk. Tina's favourite was a golf club. It could take a zombie's head clean off when aimed at the right angle.

"So how are we going about this?" She asked, swinging the club around experimentally.

Mike laughed, "Could you put that down for now? There aren't any zombies for miles, I promise you."

Tina dropped the club, and went to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, kissing him.

"What time is the plane supposed to be here?" she asked.

"Two, and it's just past twelve thirty so we better hurry." Mike replied.

"What do we need?" Tina asked.

"I'm going into that bush to get wood for a bonfire; hopefully they'll see it and know we're in trouble. You stay here and work on setting up these flags, keep your gun close, okay?" Mike told her.

"I thought you said there were no zombies for miles!" Tina teased, kissing him.

"Just in case!" he called as he jogged away from her and into the cover of trees, an axe in one hand and a gun in the other.

Tina began fitting the large red flags onto their poles, and sticking them into the ground in various places around the field. As she worked, she couldn't help but sing.

"_You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged, oh I realise it's hard to take courage…"_

Tina liked to sing. She MISSED it. And now, when no one was around to get upset by it, she was going to sing the only song she could remember.

"_And I see your true colours shining through. I see your true colours, and that's why I love you! So don't be afraid to let them show, your true colours. True colours are beautiful like a rainbow."_

She smiled to herself for a minute, imagining that maybe someone was joining in.

And then she DID hear a noise, but it didn't sound like singing.

It was growling. Growling, and snarling, and the pounding of rotting flesh on the soft earth as the thing raced toward her from the farmhouse. There was only one. And it was hungry. And it was angry.

"It mustn't like music." Tina thought.

Instead of grabbing her gun, like Mike would have wanted her to, she picked up her golf club. She had time to set herself in the right position, swing the club over her shoulder like a batter, and check that the sharper end of the club was pointed in the right direction.

Smiling as the beast approached her, she swung her club at its jugular with all her might, and sent the creature's head flying.

"FORE!" Mike yelled, laughing as he jogged back with an armful of wood.

Tina laughed, "Do you want me to grab the wagon and help with that?"

Mike looked at the one log in his arms and thought of the dozens more back in the words, "Please." he said.

After they'd hauled all the wood to the field, Mike set to work on digging a small pit for the logs.

"Shouldn't it be bigger?" Tina asked.

"The key is to build it up high." Mike said.

They piled logs into the pit until almost one thirty, and then Mike poured gasoline on it.

"Seems like a waste of gas." Tina frowned.

"We can stop and get more on our way home." Mike assured her.

He lit a match and threw it onto the pile, doing this a few times on every side until the book was empty.

Tina smiled, admiring their work.

"How much longer?" she asked.

He checked his watch, "Twenty minutes. Want lunch?"

Tina nodded, going to her bag to pull out leftover casserole from a few nights ago.

"Just once," Mike said through a mouthful of meatless, cheese-less noodle casserole, "I would like a meal with MEAT in it."

"Mike, by now the meat in the stores would have gone bad. And I don't trust hunting, do you? What if the animal's infected? It's better to be safe than sorry." Tina said.

They finished their lunch and got up to watch for the plane.

"One more thing," Mike said, pulling out a couple of flares, "We can wave these around so they know we're alive."

Mike lit the flares right at two o'clock, and they began waving them around, walking around the field looking for the plane.

"Look! There!" Tina pointed in the sky at a small red and yellow plane directly over the field. It's nose was pointed down to land.

"We did it, Tina!" Mike yelled happily over the sound of the engine, the flares and the crackling flames, "We're going to be saved!"

But Tina couldn't move. The nose of the plane was pointed right at her and getting closer by the second. She was paralyzed with fear. Couldn't the pilot see her?

"Tina!" Mike yelled, trying to get his frozen girlfriend to move out of the way, "Tina, no!" Mike jumped onto her, pushing her out of the way of the plane just as its nose hit the ground and it slid through the flames toward them.

Tina heard a mangled cry and turned around just in time to see her boyfriend be sliced to pieces in the front propeller of the crashed plane. Caught on a piece of bone from Mike's leg, the bloody propeller whirred to a stop, making horrible groaning noises.

Tina was too shocked to even cry. She pulled out her phone immediately and dialed Quinn, who picked up on the first ring.

"What's wrong?" she answered.

"Plane crashed. Mike's dead. Come get me, please." Tina gasped, tears finally freeing themselves from her eyes.

"I'm on my way." Quinn said, and the line went dead.

Tina looked up, willing the plane to stop making such horrible noises. Until she realized the noises weren't coming from the plane. Four zombies fell from the plane's door, one wearing an outfit that suggested her had been the pilot.

Tina screamed and reached for her gun, but as soon as the noise left her mouth the monsters were on her. They scratched and bit at her, and she screamed and kicked back at them.

One zombie latched its jaws onto her shoulder, tearing a great chunk of flesh from her. Another tore skin from her face with its claws as she attempted to kick at the one chewing on her leg. In the dark dance of bloody, and tangled limbs, Tina was lost.


	12. Chapter 12: WAKE UP

A/N: Hey guys! Okay, so I got a lot of reviews for the last chapter and I'm glad to see you guys like the story! I love reading your reactions. This is probably my favorite chapter! After this one there are only a few more chapters. I hope you like it!

CHAPTER 12: WAKE UP

Sam pulled into the driveway of the first farmhouse outside of Lima that hadn't been checked.

"Kurt? Are you awake?" he asked, looking at the boy next to him. When he didn't answer, Sam smiled, leaning closer. "Kurt?" he whispered, not really wanting to wake him, but knowing he had to. He placed a soft kiss to the boy's cheek, and his eyes fluttered open.

"He lives!" Sam laughed, "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Kurt smiles, "I wasn't actually planning on falling asleep."

"It's okay. You better be alert enough to search this house though, we don't want to waste daylight." Sam said.

Kurt nods and turns in his seat to grab his guns, "Ready."

Sam got out and grabbed his big gun as Kurt slung his axe over his back.

"Anything else?" Sam asked, checking his belt for missing items.

"Kiss me again?" Kurt asked, blushing and not looking at the taller boy.

Sam broke out into a goofy grin. "Of course."

Kurt leaned up, expecting a soft kiss, only to receive a big, sloppy kiss to his lips.

Sam tangled his hand in Kurt's hair and pulled him as close as possible. Kurt melted against him, smiling into the surprise.

"There," Sam said breathlessly as Kurt pulled away, "You got a proper kiss."

Kurt laughed, "Well, thank you. Not quite what I was expecting but I'll take all I can from you."

He winked and turned to walk into the house, twirling a handgun on one finger.

Sam smiled as he watched the boy he loved walk away, "Damn." He whispered, jogging to keep up with the smaller boy.

"Head in the game now, Sam." Kurt said as they got to the door, ceasing his flirting.

Sam nodded, opening the door and letting Kurt through.

The house was dark and quiet. All the cupboards were already empty as if the place had already been looted.

"If stuff's been stolen there must be survivors here somewhere, right?" Sam whispered.

Kurt started into the next room and Sam followed warily, ready to shoot any zombie in eyesight. The next room was a living room. It too was dark. The couch was overturned, the table and television smashed.

"Careful of the glass." Kurt whispered, walking carefully through the wreckage.

There was a thump, and Sam spun, pointing his gun toward the noise.

"Fuck!" someone swore loudly in a thick Irish accent.

"Dude, there's someone in here!" Sam said excitedly.

Hey rushed back into the kitchen. The door to the basement was open, a chair tipped onto the ground, and a boy holding his foot.

"Fucken Hell." He swore again.

"Who are you?" Kurt asked him.

The boy looked up as if he'd just noticed they were there.

"I could ask you the same question." He said, "What are you doing in me house?"

"We're saving you, dude." Sam explained.

"Saving me?" he asked.

Kurt nodded, "Are you all alone?"

The boy nodded, "Aye. I am. You shouldn't be here though."

"But we've got a safehouse." Sam told him, "There are more of us. Come with us."

The boy shook his head, "No. I can't."

"Why not?' Kurt asked.

The boy just shook his head again, looking embarrassed.

"My name's Sam and this is Kurt." Sam introduced himself, trying to be friendly to convince the boy to come with them.

"My name is Rory." The boy told them after considering them for a moment.

"Look." Kurt said, "I know this world can be lonely, and it's dangerous to be alone. Please come with us."

Rory shook his head again, "I told you. I can't."

"Why the hell not?" Sam asked him, frustrated with the Irish boy.

He was silent for a long time, just studying them. "Come downstairs with me." He said, indicating the open door.

Kurt and Sam looked at each other.

"Okay." Kurt said finally, following the Irish boy to the stairs.

The basement was darker than the rest of the house, except for in the middle where a small fire was burning on the cement floor. A small girl was chained to the floor next to the fire, thrashing about wildly.

At closer inspection, Kurt could see the tears and scabs on her skin, her bloodshot eyes, and bleeding mouth as she bit her own tongue for the taste of blood.

"You're keeping one of them?" Sam asked, unbelieving.

"You should have killed her." Kurt whispered.

"I can't." Rory said, "She's me sister."

Sam was about to apologize but Kurt spoke first, "You're selfish."

"Excuse me?' Rory asked.

"I watched my own boyfriend keel over and die right on my fucking lap." Kurt said quietly but forcefully, "And then I watched my friend behead his lifeless body with this axe." He was yelling now, furious with the shocked Irish man, "I sacrificed him for the greater good! That THING is not your sister, Rory! Your sister is DEAD! You keeping her here like this is wrong! You should have killed her before she even woke up! It was the right thing to do! You're selfish!"

Rory didn't say anything; he just stood quietly under Kurt's verbal abuse. Red hot tears found their way to Kurt's cheeks and he wiped at them furiously, finally turning to bury his face in Sam's shoulder to hide them.

"Take her." Rory said finally, "Kill her. Please."

Sam went for his gun but Rory stopped him, "No, please, not here. I couldn't bear it. Take her outside. I don't want to see it or hear it. Just go."

I'm not going near that thing, dude." Sam said,

Rory went closer to unchain her.

As soon as her brother touched her, the zombie went crazy, kicking, scratching, and biting at him. Rory ignored her and fiddled with the chains, but the dead girl got one good bite in, locking her jaws around her brother's throat and tearing at the tender flesh. A blood curdling scream fell from Rory's lips as he dropped to his knees on the ground next to his zombie sister, clutching the gaping wound in his neck, soaking his hands with fresh blood.

"Are you okay?" Sam felt stupid even as he said it. Of course he wasn't okay, he was choking to death on his own blood and slowly being taken over by a zombie virus.

"Kill them." Kurt said, "I can't do it. Please, before he dies and reawakens, kill them both."

"Kurt…"

"SHOOT THEM, SAM!" Kurt screamed over Rory's dying moans.

Two gunshots rang throughout the house and all was silent.

"Kurt?" Sam whispered, approaching the boy.

"I was wrong. I'm not ready for fieldwork, I don't know why I volunteered." Kurt whispered.

"I… we still have time for one more house." Sam suggested.

"No. I can't. I just want to go home," Kurt sniffed, turning away from Sam so he wouldn't see the tears.

Sam pulled the boy into a hug, "I love you, Kurt. You know that, right?"

Kurt laughed, "Yeah, Sam. I know that."

"Can I… can I call you my boyfriend?" Sam asked.

Kurt nodded against his chest, "Yeah… yeah, I'd like that."

Sam looked over his boyfriend's shoulder to the bodies on the floor, "What should we do about that?"

"Just leave them." Kurt sniffed.

"But the zombies are going to smell the-."

THUMP!

"…blood." Sam finished.

"Shit." Kurt cursed, grabbing his axe.

Sam pointed his gun toward the door as a horde of forty or more zombies rushed down the stairs.

"Fuck!" Sam exclaimed as the horde was followed by the BIGGEST monster he had ever seen.

"This man must have been a fucking body builder!" Sam yelled over the gunshots.

"The undead do well on steroids!" Kurt yelled back, beheading another zombie with a swing of his axe.

The giant let out a loud roar, snapping his fellows in two with a wave of his huge arms in an attempt to get closer to the two live boys. Sam ran out of bullets and grabbed the two handguns from Kurt's belt, continuing his assault on the oncoming zombies. Just when it seemed the numbers were thinning out, another horde twice the size rushed the door, drawn in by the noise.

It was looking bad enough when the second horde came in, it was looking worse when Kurt's guns ran out of bullets. Sam would have refilled them, but with over a hundred zombies surrounding them within the enclosed space of the basement, where was the time?

By now, the giant had gotten halfway into the basement, and it extended it's arm, reaching for Kurt. Kurt swung his axe at the giant's arm, planning on slicing off its hand, instead the axe snapped into two on impact. Sam backed against the wall, pulling Kurt to his chest before spinning around to shield Kurt from the attacks.

"Sam!" Kurt sobbed, shaking with fear.

"It's not over yet, Kurt! I won't let anything happen to you! Fill this." Sam said, shoving bullets and his big gun into Kurt's hands, working on Kurt's handguns with the zombies at his back. He spun around, and together they took down the horde.

Sam's back was ripped to shreds and bleeding profusely. There was a large tear on his arm, exposing the bone, and still he turned his gun on the giant and shot everything he had at it.

"Shoot it between the eyes!" Kurt yelled, taking his own advice.

Under the onslaught of bullets from the three guns, the zombie's head exploded, blood, flesh, and brains, splattering the walls and the two boys. Sam collapsed, bleeding, onto the floor.

"Sam!" Kurt exclaimed, falling to his knees beside the boy in the middle of a hundred rotting bodies. Tears fell form Kurt's eyes onto Sam's red, burning flesh. "Please, Sam. It'll be okay. Just please get up, let's go home. Rachel can patch you up, please, let's go." Kurt cried.

"No," Sam breathed, "No, Kurt. It's too late."

"No, it can't be." Kurt cried.

"Goodbye, Kurt." Sam whispered, peppering feather light kisses all over Kurt's face.

"No. Don't say that!" Kurt cried hysterically.

"I love you." Sam said.

"I love you, too! That's why you have to be okay! You're okay!" Kurt demanded.

Sam pulled Kurt's lips to his, engulfing them in a loving kiss. Kurt slipped his tongue past Sam's lips, coaxing his into life. Sam groaned into Kurt's mouth, the breath leaving his lungs as the life left his body and he collapsed onto Kurt. Kurt pulled his mouth from his boyfriend's, staring down at his body in disbelief.

"No," he gasped, "NO!"

He was angry now, "No, you CAN'T! You said you wouldn't leave me! YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME!"

He screamed at Sam's body, standing and kicking it as hard as he could, over and over, hoping to do enough physical damage to the boy as to hurt him like he had hurt Kurt.

"WAKE UP SAM! WAKE THE FUCK UP!" he screamed.

He fell to the ground again as his body convulsed in sobs, "How could you? You said you loved me!"

After what seemed like an hour, curled up and sobbing, surrounded by dead bodies, Kurt sat up.

"I won't let you leave me." He whispered, placing a kiss on Sam's dead lips.

Kurt picked up his handgun from the rotting shoulder of a decapitated zombie, raising it to his head.

"See you soon, my love." Kurt whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling the trigger.


	13. Chapter 13: LOOKING UP

A/N: So sorry it's late! I've been really busy the last couple weeks. But here it is. DON'T HATE ME! This all has a purpose I swear! There's only a few chapter's left now. To make up for being so late, I'll see if I'm able to post another chapter tomorrow. We'll see. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 13: LOOKING UP

"Britt, can you hurry up? I want to make it home before the boys." Santana called to her girlfriend, "I'm going to hide that dead snake I found in Sam's bed." She giggled to her mom.

Mrs. Lopez rolled her eyes, "Even now in these circumstances, you act like a child, Santana."

"Thank you." She smiled.

Her mother didn't know it, but it had been two months since Santana had had any fun. She was just beginning to feel like things were looking up, convinced Puck's death was the last. She wanted to take advantage of this feeling while she still had it.

"Britt! Seriously, come on!" she yelled again.

"Sorry." Britt said, coming out the house with arms full of chocolate, canned ham, cheese whiz, and coffee creamer.

"What the fuck is this stuff?" Santana asked her confused girlfriend.

"Language!"

"Sorry, Mom." Santana muttered, "Brittany, I thought you were getting CAT food."

"What do you mean? This is some of Lord Tubbingotn's favorite stuff." Britt answered.

"Ay me… Brittany, darling. Lord Tubbington is a cat." Mrs. Lopez informed her, "It's not healthy for him to be eating food made for humans."

Britt frowned, "But the cat food in there is liver flavoured. I'm not giving that to Tubbs, that's cruel!"

"Britt, half that stuff has gone bad anyway. I'm sure we can find some fish flavoured food or something for Lord Tubbington, okay?" Santana said.

"Yeah okay," Britt said, dropping the stuff at her feet, "I'm keeping the Cheese Whiz though, he'll be pissed if he doesn't get any."

"Okay baby." Santana sighed, humouring her girlfriend.

They found some Brittany-approved cat food in some old ladies house in downtown Lima. Unfortunately, they had walked from house to house, looting each one, and now had a few blocks between them and the car.

"Why'd we have to bring so many?" Santana asked, lugging her bags of cat food down the street, "You know we can come back out and get more if he runs out, right? You didn't have to jack a year's supply."

Britt laughed, "But Sanny, this will only last him a couple weeks!"

"Fucking fat ass cat." Santana mumbled so the blonde wouldn't hear her.

About halfway down the street, the three women heard a loud noise. The noise was deafening, a cross between a child's tantrum, and a howling cat caught under a tire. It was a screaming, gurgling type of sound, like someone choking on blood.

"THE FUCK IS THAT?" Santana yelled over the noise.

"IT'S COMING FROM THE OLD DAY CARE!" Mrs. Lopez yelled back to her daughter.

At this point, about twenty some zombie toddlers came racing toward them from across the street. They all had bloodshot eyes, gnashing teeth, bleeding at the mouth.

"Holy shit!" Santana yelled, dropping the cat food and grabbing at her gun.

Brittany had her gun out in a second as well, however Mrs. Lopez had insisted she would only need her kitchen knife.

She swung low at the undead children, feeling bad about killing them but trying to keep them off her.

"Stab them!" Santana yelled, "They're not kids! They're fucking undead babies from hell!"

One attacked Santana's leg and she kicked it, sending it flying across the street. The zombie kids were no match for Santana and Brittany's guns and were quickly eliminated. Mrs. Lopez underestimated their strength though, and was taken down by a few that were clawing at her legs.

"Good Lord!" she exclaimed, falling backward. Santana turned her gun on them, shooting them off her mother.

The last of them let out a strangled cry, spewing blood form it's lips before falling dead on the street.

"Mom, are you okay?" Santana asked, helping her mother to her feet.

"Yes, I'm okay." She said, even as she fell back down.

"Mom, your leg!" Santana gasped.

"Oh, it's only a scratch, Santana. I'll be fine." She assured her as she got back up, "Help me hobble to the car, will you?"

It wasn't just a scratch. It was a few dozen open wounds from the teeth and claws of the demon babies.

"We'll get you home and have Rachel stitch that up, okay Mom?" Santana said as she put the car in drive.

"Yes, that's fin. It's fine. I'll be okay." She assured her daughter again.

"Those things were scary, San." Britt whispered, "Those poor kids." Tears started flowing down Brittany's face and Santana had to admire how sweet and good her girlfriend was. There she was, crying over that fate of the zombie babies when their own situation looked grim. Santana hadn't given a second thought to blowing the little fuckers to hell. She was glad her girlfriend had the softer heart because God knows someone had to these days.

She pulled into the Fabray's garage and together she and Brittany carried her mother into the living room and placed her on the couch, where Rachel was bust folding laundry.

"What happened?" she asked, jumping up to get her first aid kit.

"There was a horde of fucking two year old undead freaks." Santana told her, "Where's Quinn?"

"She went to get Tina. Their mission was a failure. The plane crashed into Mike." Rachel informed her, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

Santana's jaw dropped, "It CRASHED? How did it crash? What the HELL?"

Santana had been feeling good today. She'd felt like nothing else could go wrong for the New Directions from here on out. She realized now how naive she had been to think that.

There was a low groan form Mrs. Lopez and Santana turned her attention on her.

"What is it Mom? Are you okay?"

Her mom shook her head, and scream falling from her lips, "It's burning! My leg! It burns!"

Rachel froze, "Did… did she get BIT?"

"Yeah, but… but she's not dying. I thought you had to die to…" Santana choked out hysterically.

Rachel shook her head, "The virus kills. Santana, if she got bit… I can't… I don't know how to… Santana, I can't save her."

Santana tried so hard to hold back all her tears, to be strong in front of her mom and Brittany. But she couldn't. With tears running freely down Santana's face, she asked Rachel, "How long?"

Rachel looked at the dying woman on the couch, "An hour or so. You have to give the virus enough time to reach her heart…. Look, whatever we do for her, it's your call Santana. You can spend this hour with her or we can… stop her pain."

Santana frowned, "What? Like… put her down?"

Rachel made a disgusted face, "Well, I am certainly not suggesting that she's an animal! But, in theory, yes, that is what we'd be doing. It's up to you though! I'd never even dream of making that call."

Santana nodded, trying to decide what to do. Her mother was screaming and clutching at different parts of her body as the zombie virus moved through her veins.

"Mommy?" Santana said once the screams subsided.

"Yes… Santana?" her mother gasped, trying to suck air into her burning lungs.

"Mommy, you have two options," Santana tried to address her mother like a doctor, "We can either wait until the virus finishes you off, or we can… stop the pain… and end it now."

Santana choked on the last word, a fresh wave of tears taking over her, silent sobs wracking her body.

"Don't cry, love." Her mother whispered, "God has decided it's my time to go."

Santana shook her head, "I can't believe that. I can't believe that God meant for these things to happen. These things… they're demons. If we're going to talk about God, then I think Satan has won."

"Don't you believe I'm going to heaven, Santana?" her mother whispered.

Santana nodded, but was not really sure of herself. Her mother had always believed in God. Not particularly religious, but she had believed in God, and had always taught Santana to. But how could Santana hold on to the notion that thewre was any form of GOOD in a world like this?

Her mother sensed Santana's confusion and wiped the tears off her face with her thumb, "Just look at little, innocent Brittany, darling. You can't help but believe that SHE'S going to heaven, riht? The world isn't entirely evil, and there's your proof."

Santana glanced sideways at her girlfriend, who was hugging her cat and crying silently to herself.

She nodded.

"Yeah?" her mother asked.

"Yeah," Santana sniffed, wiping tears from her face.

"Be strong for her, okay?" Her mother told her, "I'll be okay… where I'm going."

"So what do you want to do?" Santana asked, preparing herself for the worst.

Santana's mom smiled, "Pain I can handle. But I don't want to be a monster. I don't want your last memory of me to be a monster."

Santana started crying again, gripping tight to her mother's hand.

"Please don't go, Mom! I just got you back!" she cried.

"You don't need me anymore, Santana. But Brittany needs YOU. You can't let this break you. Be strong, baby. I raised you to be strong." Her mother said firmly.

"Okay… but I'm not saying goodbye." She whispered.

"How about… See you later?"

Santana let out a short, humourless laugh, "Okay. See you later, Mom."

"Go tell Rachel I'm ready." She said, kissing her daughter's forehead and sending her off, "See you later."

Santana nodded and got up to get Rachel.

"Okay." Santana said, "She wants to leave now."

"Wait… you want me to do it?" Rachel asked, nervous.

Santana glared at her, "You didn't expect Britt or ME to do it did you?"

Rachel shook her head frantically, "No, of course not! I thought Quinn would be back…"

"Well she's not. And Mom wants to go now. She's in pain." Santana snapped angrily at her friend.

Rachel set her jaw, and picked up her gun, "…okay."

Rachel had never killed anyone before. Not even after they were dead. Only after they were a zombie, and NEVER anyone she'd seen reanimate.

Santana's mother was alive. Alive and asking to be killed. Rachel WANTED to help. If this was how she could end the misery, she would do this.

"Rachel." Mrs. Lopez greeted quietly as she entered the room, "Brittany, dear, will you help Rachel get me to the garage?"

Brittany nodded, putting her cat down and wiping the tears from her face. Together they carried Mrs. Lopez to the garage, lowering her onto the floor.

"Thank you honey," she said.

Brittany said nothing, not trusting the sounds that might come out of her mouth. She made to leave, but hesitated.

After a moment of decision, Brittany dropped to her knees beside her girlfriend's mother, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her cheek.

"I'll see you later, Brittany. In a few decades when you've lived a good, long life, okay?" Mrs. Lopez whispered into the hair of the love of her daughter's life.

Brittany nodded, placing another quick kiss to her cheek and quickly leaving the room to hide her sobs.

Rachel turned to face her… patient… for the first time.

"You're so brave, Rachel," she said, "And so strong, and gentle."

Rachel shook her head, "No I'm not. I don't even know if I can do this."

"I know you can. You're not a murderer… you're a doctor. Think of it that way." She said.

Rachel raised her gun, "Tell me when."

Mrs. Lopez laughed, "You can look away, just don't miss and hit a car."

"How are you so okay with this?" Rachel asked.

"Death is a natural part of life. It's just my time to go." She informed her.

Rachel closed her eyes, "Just… count to three."

Mrs. Lopez also closed her eyes, getting comfortable on the floor, "One…"

Rachel squeezed her eyes tight, her hand shaking on the handle of the gun.

"Two…"

She readied herself to pull the trigger, imagining a zombie there instead, with intent to hurt Quinn.

"Three."

Rachel pulled the trigger.

After a moment of silence, Rachel opened her eyes.

If not for the blood around her, Mrs. Lopez could have been asleep on the floor. Rachel shrugged off her sweater, laid it over the body, and went back inside.

Rachel said nothing when she got to the living room. She just placed two cups of tea in front of the girls who were wrapped in each other's arms and sat down. She looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost seven o' clock, and getting dark out. Where was Quinn?

Santana looked down at the blonde girl who was slowly passing out in her arms. Her mother had been right, she couldn't give up, she had to stay strong… for Brittany.

"Britt?"

"Hm?"

Santana smiled at the girl, wiping tears from her face, set on putting this behind her, "I know it's early, but do you want to go to bed?"

Britt nodded, "Can we just… snuggle?"

Santana nodded, getting up and leading her girlfriend down the hall, "Yeah, Britt… we can just snuggle."


	14. Chapter 14: AND THEN THERE WERE FOUR

A/N: Okay guys, here's the next chapter as promised, only one day late! Only one more chapter after this one! I hope this chapter will give you a little break from all the death. It's not as bad and it's FULL of Faberry. So, enjoy it!

CHAPTER 14: AND THEN THERE WERE FOUR

When Quinn got to the field Mike and Tina had been at, the fire had burned itself out. The whole bottom of the plane was scorched, one of its wings bent from hitting the ground. The landing gear was completely missing, and its propeller was stuck up with bones and blood.

"Tina?" Quinn called, holding her gun up. Five zombies rushed out of the plane, Tina being one of them.

"Shit!" Quinn yelled, quickly letting five bullets fly from the barrel of her gun and through each zombie's skull. She frowned, looking down at Tina's dead body. She would have played with them had it not been someone she knew. Quinn sighed, left with nothing to do. She swung back her foot and kicked, sending a zombie's head flying off its dead shoulders, just for fun.

Quinn surveyed the wreckage with a look of evident disgust on her face. Then an idea crossed her mind, and she moved closer to take in the damage done to the plane.

They could fix this. Right?

Kurt spent lots of time in his dad's garage right? He knew his way around the inside of a car. Quinn knew it really wasn't the same thing but she was desperate. They were smart, they could figure it out. If he could fix a car, they could fix a plane, right? And then… then they could get out of here.

She didn't want to be hopeful, but she was pretty happy with her plan. They could at least _try_. She hopped back in her car, taking Mike and Tina's stuff with her, and drove back home.

It was nearly seven, Quinn noticed as she drove the route home, she hoped the others weren't worried about her.

When Quinn pulled into the garage, she was discouraged to see Rachel's sweater lying over what could only be a body in a puddle of blood. Her stomach lurched in worry and fear as she approached it.

She let herself feel some relief in the fact that it was too tall to be Rachel, and she lifted the sweater to see Mrs. Lopez. She looked as if she was just casually taking a nap on the floor, never mind the blood.

Quinn hurried into the living room to find Rachel sitting alone, weeping, and sipping slowly from a mug.

"Rachel… where are the others?"

Rachel looked up and smiled, stumbling into Quinn's arms. Surprised, Quinn wrapped her arms around the smaller girl.

"I'm so happy you're alive." Rachel breathed.

Quinn smiled at her, allowing herself to place a soft kiss to the girl's forehead, "I'm fine, Rach. So… where is everyone?"

"Santana and Brittany are in their room. Sam and Kurt aren't back yet." Rachel sniffed, removing herself from Quinn.

"What?" Quinn asked her, surprised.

Rachel nodded.

Quinn looked out the window, noticing how dark it was getting, "I'm going to find them." She said, heading toward the garage.

"I'm coming with you!" Rachel said, immediately following the pink haired girl.

Quinn spun around to face her, "No, you're not."

"Quinn… you've kept me locked up ever since Blaine died. That's the last time I was out! I am going with you!" Rachel argued.

"How many of us are left Rachel?" Quinn shouted, "Not very many! There were THIRTEEN of us, Rach! And now there are six. Maybe five or four. I'm not going to risk losing you, too."

Rachel stared at the other girl for a moment. She understood. She didn't want to lose Quinn either. But she loved Kurt and Sam too, and she was just as anxious to find out if they were alive.

"Then you'll just have to try extra hard to protect me, right?" Rachel said, strolling past her and getting into Quinn's car without another word.

Quinn rolled her eyes at Rachel's stubbornness, grabbing her bat and a few extra guns and getting into the car.

"Should we have told the girls we left?" Rachel asked, halfway down the road.

"They'll be sleeping… or cuddling… or fucking." Quinn concluded.

Rachel laughed, "True." Her cheeks were going red at the thought.

Quinn thought Rachel was cute when she blushed. She giggled too, leaning over to ruffle Rachel's hair.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed, desperately trying to flatten her hair back down.

Quinn smiled at Rachel for a moment before getting serious again, "Do you know exactly where they went?"

Rachel shook her head, "No, but I do have an idea…"

She began rummaging through her pockets, looking for something.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asked her, confused.

"Last year, my parents bought me the new iPhone for my birthday. It has that 'Find My Friends' app on it. It can track anyone on my contacts list. Do you think it will still work?" Rachel explained.

"It should… Internet shouldn't be down yet." Quinn said, glancing at Rachel's phone every once in a while.

"I don't know if it needs Wi-Fi. I've never used it…" Rachel muttered, trying to get it to work.

"Got it!" Rachel exclaimed triumphantly after a few moments of fiddling around with her phone and muttering frustrated under her breath.

"So what's happening now?" Quinn asked, watching the screen out of the corner of her eye as she drove circles within the borders of Lima, not knowing which way to go.

"Now my phone track's Kurt's phone and we'll find out where they went!" Rachel sighed happily as she watched the app search for her friend.

"Oh." Rachel frowned.

"What is it?" Quinn sighed, knowing the idea was too good to be true.

"Kurt lost his phone on his last mission. It's saying they're at Blaine's. I don't think they are, though. I'll try Sam's phone." Rachel typed frantically on the device and gave it a minute to calculate.

"They went that way." Rachel said, pointing down a road, "They're just outside town limits. Maybe an hour away. It will be that first farm with the big white barn that we passed on our way to Sectionals last year."

Quinn couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter, causing Rachel to frown.

"What did I say that was funny, Quinn?" she asked in her most disappointed tone.

"Nothing, Rach. It's just… the way you remember things. Even now your whole world revolves around Glee," Quinn chuckled, "It's cute."

"While it may be CUTE, Quinn, it is entirely untrue." Rachel said matter-of-factly, "Glee may have been very important to me in the past but now there are no people around to hear me sing. I'm not going to NYADA and I'm not going to be on Broadway. Everyone's dead. No, my whole world no longer consists of my dreams that died along with the rest of the population… my world consists of something much more important now."

"And… what's that?" Quinn asked quietly, in awe of the girl.

"Hm?" asked Rachel, looking up at her.

"What is it? That your whole world revolves around now?" Quinn persisted, watching Rachel's cheeks go red.

"Well…you," Rachel admitted, "and the others of course. Keeping everyone together… and alive."

"Oh." Quinn nods, trying to hide her disappointment.

They pulled up at the farm house Rachel had previously mentioned and loaded up on weapons.

When they got out of the car, they spotted Sam's truck, and shared a look of anxiety. If Sam's truck was here, they would be inside… but what had they been doing here all day? They were both scared to see what was inside the house.

"Here's to hoping they're fucking like rabbits." Quinn muttered, leading the way into the house.

"Sam? Kurt?" Quinn called.

There was not only no answer, but no undead rushing to investigate the sound of her voice.

"Quinn… it's too quiet." Rachel said with a terrified waver in her voice.

"I know," Quinn said, noticing the basement door that was torn to shreds and ripped off its hinges, "Come on, downstairs."

Rachel stuck close behind Quinn, clutching her gun tight.

Quinn got to the bottom of the stairs and saw what was waiting for them first. The stench of the hundreds of undead bodies was overwhelming. Quinn fought the urge to retch as she surveyed the area.

Scattered all over the floor like some sort of mass murder had occurred were a hundred DEAD zombies. Off to one side, a much larger zombie was crushing its fellows, and it lacked a head. There was blood and gore covering every inch of the place, including the two boys at the back of the room who were barely discernible from the other bodies.

Sam's body was mangled beyond all belief, but his face was perfectly peaceful. He was even smiling, as if he had died in a moment of bliss. Kurt's body was still perfect, untouched, except for his head which was still bleeding, even still, blown wide open from the gun that was still clutched in his hand.

Kurt was strewn over his boyfriend's body, his face buried in his neck as if they were embracing. It was the most morbidly sweet thing Quinn had ever seen. Like Romeo and Juliet, only surrounded by rotting corpses.

"Go back." Quinn told Rachel, "Go back, don't look."

"What? What is it? What's down there?" Rachel asked, ducking under the taller girl's arm and taking the first step onto the blood slicked floor.

Upon seeing the sight of the two boys lying dead, holding one another, Rachel collapsed, sobbing.

"Kurt! Oh Kurt! Oh Sam!" She cried, crawling on her knees over blood covered bodies to get to the two who had been her friends.

She laid herself over Kurt's back, blood soaking her clothes, her arms and legs covered in the gore from the zombies surrounding her.

She placed a kiss to Kurt's dead shoulder, sobbing into his back, "Why? Kurt! My best friend! Why?"

Quinn walked closer, hesitating for a moment before extracting the gun from Kurt's hand.

"Rachel… Rachel. Rachel!" Quinn tried to get the shorter girl's attention, dropping to her knees beside her.

"What?" Rachel sniffed, trying to wipe the tears off her face, but only succeeding in smearing the blood from her hands all over her face.

"He killed himself." Quinn pointed out.

"What? How do you know?" Rachel asked, surprised, looking all over Kurt's body.

"There's not a bite or a wound on him. And look at his head. And he was holding this gun, Rach. He shot himself."

"But why?" Rachel gasped, tears washing the blood from her face.

"I think Sam died protecting him," Quinn said, looking at Sam's body in comparison to Kurt's, "This is the second time Kurt had to watch someone he loved die. I don't think he could handle it."

"But… what about us? Didn't he thing of us?" Rachel cried.

Quinn shook her head, "He couldn't. It was the same with Noah when…"

She trailed off, reluctant to mention her daughter, angry with herself that she mentioned that night at all.

Rachel sniffed, nodding and standing slowly in the pool of gore surrounding her, "Let's go. I want to go home."

Quinn nodded, following the girl back out to the car.


	15. Chapter 15: DON'T RAIN ON MY PARADE

A/N: Hey guys! SO SO SO SORRY that it took so long, I've been really busy! I just wanted to apologize for any typos in this story at all. I HATE typos and I should have proof read it better. So I am sorry. Ok, here is the last chapter. Enjoy it!

CHAPTER 15: DON'T RAIN ON MY PARADE

The more Quinn thought about it, the more the idea haunted her. How much was she like Kurt, or Puck? Would she be able to go on if she found out Rachel died? Would she become cold? Or would she tried that much harder to protect her two best friends, the only people she had left? Or, like Kurt, would she off herself, desperate not to let Rachel go? Would she go crazy? Start talking to thin air, denying Rachel had ever died?

Life was too short, Quinn thought, to worry about things like this. In a world where everyone you've ever known was now dead, or a monster, you had to take chances. You had to live it up, because you didn't know how long you had left to.

"Sunday, September the tenth." Quinn recited, walking into the kitchen. She couldn't believe only a day had passed with all the events of yesterday.

A little over two months ago, there had been thirteen of them; coming home from a Glee trip they had taken over the summer, to see some musicals on New York. She remembered the ride back when Rachel had gone on and on talking about how someday she would be performing exactly where the lead had stood.

It was too late now, but Quinn still wanted to make that happen. She wanted Rachel to have at least that. That wasn't such a hard wish to grant, was it?

"Let's go to New York." She blurts out, interrupting the girls' conversation.

"What?" Rachel asked.

"You're crazy, Fabray." Santana commented, "You were the one who said citied were unsafe."

"Everywhere is unsafe. We could die sitting right here in the kitchen!" Quinn argued, "We can't just sit here and let our situation control us anymore. Let's live our lives! Let's go to New York and do everything we've ever dreamed of!"

"Translation," Santana muttered, "Everything BERRY has ever dreamed of."

Quinn fixed Santana with her best bitch glare, "Don't tell me you don't want to go. What's keeping us here?"

"The massive hordes of zombies that are probably wreaking havoc in the city streets." Santana said.

"We can get past them. There are more places to hide in the city. There are more comfortable places to live, more stores and houses to loot. There's more access to food and gasoline, heat, and water. Winter is coming, and we have no power." Quinn explained.

Santana opened her mouth to argue again but Brittany spoke up, "I wanna go, San."

"What? Why?"

"There's no one here anymore." Britt said quietly, "Maybe there are still people in the city."

"Is this something you really wanna do, babe? If we didn't go would you be upset?" Santana asked.

Britt nodded, "I really wanna go Sanny, it sounds like fun."

Santana sighed, "Ok, Fabray. I'm in."

Quinn smiled at her two best friends and turned to the shorter girl in the room, "What about it Rach? Want to go to New York with me?"

Rachel's dreams were coming true in an instant. Quinn. New York. Together. It sounded perfect, especially the way Quinn had worded it.

Rachel giggled, "Try keeping me away, Quinn Fabray."

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You could tell how much each girl changed by what they left behind.

Brittany and Santana saw no further need for their Cheerio's uniforms. Brittany wasn't bringing any unicorn stuffies, she wanted to make room for Lord Tubbington.

Santana didn't have much besides clothes and weapons, keeping her focus on survival rather than pleasure.

Quinn had brought her wall. Well, she took a picture of it anyway, so she could start a new one in New York. And she never went anywhere without her bat.

Rachel was leaving all her trophies behind. After insisting they go rescue them from the Berry house all those weeks ago when this all started, she was leaving them behind her in Lima. She had new aspirations, new dreams. Those trivial accomplishments seemed so silly to her now.

"Can we bring just one more bag?" Britt asked after mulling it over for a while, "I want to bring one thing of everyone's. To remember them by."

The girls were silent for a moment as they fought their tears.

"That's a good idea, B." Quinn said finally, "Let's do it."

Without a word the girls all got up and went about the house collecting one thing for everyone and putting them in Mike's old backpack. When they were done, they went to bed without saying anything about it. It was a sort of memorial to their friends, and this had been their service.

Inside the bag was; Noah's guitar pick, Sam's copy of Avatar, Kurt's favorite Alexander McQueen sweater, Blaine's Dalton tie, Mercedes' iPod, Tina's plastic fangs, Mike's tap shoes, Finn's football, Artie's camera, and one of Mr. Schue's vests.

Tucked away in the front pocket, where no one knew about it, was the first baby blanket Beth had been wrapped in when Quinn held her at the hospital. She'd found it when her and Puck had gone to Shelby's.

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"Why are we doing this Quinn?" Rachel asked Quinn that night, after they'd crawled into Quinn's bed.

"Because…"Quinn whispered, "there's nothing here for us anymore."

"What's in New York?" Rachel asked her.

"Your dreams." Quinn answered honestly.

Rachel shook her head, "Dreams I let go of weeks ago. The night this all started."

Quinn smiled at the shorter girl in her arms, "That night, we were riding back from New York. And all you kept saying was, 'That's going to be me one day.' Well, it still is, Rachel. Even if the world has gone to hell, you can't give up on your dreams. I'm going to make sure you get to perform on the big Broadway stage, Rach. It's where you were always meant to be."

Rachel was glad the room was dark so Quinn couldn't see the blush playing on her cheeks.

"Why now?" she asked, "Why the sudden revelation?"

"It's not sudden." Quinn said quickly, "I've always know you belonged there. But we're going now because… I realised that we aren't going to live forever. We don't have all this time to make our dreams come true. I don't want you to die without getting to live your dream. And I don't want to die without having watched it happen."

"What about your dreams?" Rachel asked her.

"My dream is getting the chance to help you live yours." Quinn answered, turning around to go to bed, "I will make all your dreams come true."

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When the girls got to the city, it was like all their troubles melted away. All the bright lights of New York, New York still shone and they were like a beacon of hope for the four girls looking to start a new life away from the disaster of their home town.

Venturing further into the city was terrible, however. Cars were left abandoned in the middle of the street, the only people the girls saw were undead, buildings were wrecked and looted, thought they couldn't tell if the survivors had been there recently or so long ago they'd be dead by now.

Regardless, the girls found a place on the top floor of a building they'd cleared of zombies, and unpacked in it.

"I never pictured New York would ever be so… empty." Rachel said sadly.

"But crowded at the same time." Santana frowned.

"Are you girls ready to explore the city?" Quinn asked excitedly.

"That sounds dangerous." Rachel said hesitantly.

"Come on, Rachel. Pick a theater. Let's go live your dream." Quinn clapped her hands.

Being here in New York with the girl of her dreams and two of her very best friends was overwhelming for Rachel. She was excited and scared all at the same time.

"Ok." She said finally, "ok, I'm ready."

"Are you girls coming too?"

"Sure, why not?" Santana shrugged, "I've got nothing better to do."

"But Santana," Britt said, "You told me you couldn't wait to hear Rachel sing. You were crying and every—"

"OK, Britt!" Santana blushed.

Rachel smiled, "Thank you, Santana. It means a lot to me that you think that."

Santana shrugged again, "Yeah, well."

"Shall we attempt to drive, or walk?" Quinn asked.

"Drive." Rachel said, "I don't want to get blood and gore all over my nice dress." She shuddered, imagining it.

When they got to the theater, it was all set up for what would have been the last performance to ever occur.

"It's sad." Rachel breathed, looking over the beautiful stage that still took her breath away, "Here we are. There are four of us left to perform, and no one left to listen."

"That's not true." Santana said, "This is YOUR dream. There's only you left to perform, and three of us here to cheer you on."

Rachel smiled at Santana as the girls made their way to the front row and Rachel got on the stage.

"Ready?" she asked.

They nodded, "Give us a performance we'll never forget!" Quinn shouted.

Rachel closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and started to sing.

"_Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter. Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter. Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!"_

The undead began rushing the stage, drawn in by the sound of Rachel's voice. Quinn shot at one and Rachel shrieked.

"Keep singing!" Quinn shouted as the girls shot to keep the zombies away from Rachel.

"_Don't tell me not to fly, I've simply got to. If someone takes a spill it's me and not you! Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade?"_

Every creature that made its way onto the stage was shot through the skull before it could touch the singing girl. It made for the most gruesome and beautiful performance Quinn had ever seen.

"_But whether I'm the rose of sheer perfection, a freckle on the nose of life's complexion, a cinder, or the shiny apple of its eye! I gotta fly once, I gotta try once, only can die once, right sir? Oh, life is juicy, juicy and you see, I've gotta have my bite, sir!"_

Quinn shouted as a zombie sunk its teeth into Rachel's ankle. The zombie was eliminated by a nice shot from Santana, but too late. The blood was trickling down Rachel's leg, but still she sang.

"_I'm gonna live, and live now. Get what I want, I know how. One roll for the whole shebang. One throw, that bell will go clang. Eye on the target and wham! One shot, one gun shot and-"_

BAM! Another zombie shot off Rachel's shoulder, too close a call. Long scratch marks down Rachel's back from its wicked claws.

"_Get ready for me love, 'cause I'm a comer! I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer!"_

She sank to her knees in pain as a zombie got its teeth around her throat. No use in fighting, if she was going to die, it was going to be in style. In one last attempt to save her show, she screamed;

"_Nobody, NO, NOBODY IS GONNA RAIN ON MY PARADE!"_

The zombie was shot off of her as she lay back onto the stage.

"Rachel!" Quinn yelled, running onto the stage and dropping to her knees beside the girl.

Rachel coughed blood onto the girl before wiping her mouth and smiling, "How was I?"

Quinn laughed, despite her worry, "You were AMAZING, as always."

"So much for not getting blood on my dress, huh?" Rachel sighed, "Oh well, I won't need it anymore I guess."

"Don't say that." Quinn said darkly.

The other girls approached quietly once all the zombies were dead.

"I always dreamed of dying on stage." Rachel commented, "I just thought I'd be acting."

Tears streamed down Brittany's face, and she hid in Santana's shoulder.

"A dramatic end to a dramatic girl." Quinn said, "How fitting."

Rachel laughed, "I always did imagine you at my deathbed." She admitted.

"So did I." Quinn said, tears finally making their way onto her face.

"Why are you crying?" Rachel asked.

"I'm so stupid." Quinn said, "This is all my fault."

"No, it's not!" she turned to sputter another lungful of blood onto the stage.

"Rachel, listen to me, okay?" Quinn said, turning the dying girl to look at her, "I LOVE you. I love you with all my heart, and I am so stupid for not telling you earlier. You're the most important thing in the world to me. You understand?"

Rachel smiled, nodding, "I know. I've always known, I guess. I love you too, Quinn. I always did."

"And I was so terrible to you, because I didn't want-"

"Ssh, Quinn. I know." Rachel assured her, "it doesn't matter anymore. You're here now and that's all I could ask for."

Quinn pulled the dying girl into a passionate kiss before pulling away and looking into her eyes, "I love you."

The pink haired girl held Rachel to her, sobbing silently over her.

Rachel wasn't sad. She wasn't scared. She was happy. She was deliriously happy. She had everything she ever wanted in these last moments of her life.

"Thank you, God." She whispered, "This is perfect."

Quinn sobbed.

"Quinn, could you please stop crying? You're ruining my moment." Rachel said, wiping the tears from her cheeks, and placing a soft kiss to her lips.

"Rach…"

"Quinn." She breathed. And it was her last breath.

Quinn held the dead girl in her arms. She had made her decision the moment she had been bitten. She was a lot more like Kurt or Noah then she thought. She wasn't leaving here alive.

"Quinn…" Santana said, not knowing what to say, but knowing they had to leave. None of them would be able to shoot Rachel when she woke up.

Quinn got up and handed Santana the keys to her car.

"But…" Santana protested.

"Just go." Quinn said, "Stay safe. Never let each other go."

Santana wanted to argue, but Britt knew better and was dragging her away. There were no goodbyes.

When the girls left, Quinn dropped her guns. She dropped her bat, and she sat on the stage, staring at the love of her life.

After a moment, Rachel woke up. And maybe she wasn't Rachel anymore, but Quinn kissed her.

Rachel attacked immediately. Quinn didn't fight. Rachel tore at her skin and bit at her throat.

"Take me, Rach." Quinn whispered, "Take all of me. I always belonged to you."

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END.

A/N: DON'T HATE ME! DX I'm sorry, this really was fun to write! I know it's not an amazing story, but I like it, so that's why I wanted to share it with you. Well, I really hoped you all liked it, and if not, sorry. Look for more from me in the future! :D (I'm in the middle of an exciting Glee/Vampire Diaries Crossover is anyone is interested. Who knows if I'll finish though. Here's to hoping!) Ok, bye! Thank you all SO SO much for reading and all of your reviews!


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